That Which We Have Lost
by Dark Marx Soul
Summary: A four-part fanfic, written on request, exploring the feelings of Noctis and co. in the aftermath of Insomnia's destruction, and their ruminations on that which they have lost.


For once in his life, Noctis could not sleep.

There were a multitude of reasons. Cid's home was a dump in the middle of nowhere, a haphazard shack made of metal and drywall and which stunk perpetually of sawdust and oil. The bed on which the prince slept was a cot with aged springs that creaked at any movement and poked at his back. The ceiling fan above was a far cry from the one in his Insomnian home; it filled the silence of the Leidean night with a persistent, rattling hum that made him grit his teeth in frustration while his three companions slumbered, unaware.

In truth, he knew none of that mattered. On any other day he would have been out like a light the second he hit the mattress, and the last to rise the following morning.

No, what was really keeping him awake was the hard beating of his own heart, the spinning of his head, and that subtle tightness in his throat that foreshadowed tears he desperately prayed would not fall.

 _"About the king … it's true."_

His mind replayed the marshal's words, each time clenching his throat before the last had a chance to fade. He had been able to dismiss the newspapers. He had been able to even ignore the onslaught of Niflheim airships that descended upon the city, smoke trailing from innumerable locations within it. It was confirmation from Cor's own mouth that made the truth impossible to ignore.

Insomnia was a ruin, and his dad was dead.

Noctis clenched his fists and his teeth, suppressing a guttural choke that wanted so badly to come out of his mouth. _This goddamn fan …_ he thought, watching its blades spin 'round and 'round.

It was just so damn loud.

The prince sat up, his cot squeaking, and for a brief moment he thought his three companions would wake. None of them stirred. He stood up, and still they remained asleep.

Screw it all. He didn't want to be here in this dump, the marshal's words looping forever. He had to get out. Walking silently down the halls of Cid's house, he went out the front door and closed it gingerly behind him.

Cid's home wasn't too far from his garage, though it was similarly situated in the middle of exactly nowhere. All around was the dusty landscape of Leide's countryside, now considerably colder in the middle of the night. Noctis set off alone, and when he had reached a suitable distance, let the solitude of the darkness settle around him.

He looked to the sky; a cascade of stars was spread across it and glittering like a sheet of diamonds, the nebulous arm of their galaxy cutting a swath of glowing purple through the night. Big and white, the full moon shone. It was beautiful.

One would never know that destruction could happen in this world.

Noctis forced himself to smile, and he spoke to himself in a voice barely held together. "The sky's nice outside the city," he said to someone unseen. "There's no light pollution. I bet you'd have loved to see this too." The beginnings of a few tears were beginning to collect on his eyes. "I always told you I wanted to go stargazing. You'd pat me on the head and tell me, 'Someday.' But someday never came. Not for this and not for anything."

After a moment, his smile fell, and when he clenched his eyes shut the tears fell freely down his cheeks. He doubled over, running his fingers up his face and failing to hold in a grunt, strangled and pathetic. Another moment passed, his throat constricted in a tension that shook his entire body, before he let loose a scream into the night.

" _Is this what you wanted?_ " he howled at the sky, directing his shattered rage at the mental image of his father looking down upon him. "Is this why you were never there for me? Why you could never find the goddamn _time?_ Was it because you knew this would happen?" Noctis walked forward on shaking legs, clenching his nails into his palms and coughing a little too hard before he resumed his tirade. "Did you know, the entire time, that you'd abandon me like this? Did you think, if you didn't give me anything to miss, that it was never going to hurt? Well _fuck you!_ You son of a _bitch!_ Because … because …"

Noctis's voice broke apart. He fell to his knees and lowered his head to the ground, sobbing. "Because it _still hurts so goddamn much …_ "

Insomnia was gone. His school was gone. The apartment, the arcade, the parks, the people. But none of that mattered at all, because it was all overshadowed by the knowledge that a life with his father he had barely lived had been taken away, and now he would never be able to make it up.

A growl jolted him to attention. He sprung to his feet, his engine blade materializing in his hand in a flash of light and a glitter of magical shards. In the dark, a blur in his tear-filled eyes, was the starved form of a sabertusk, tongue hanging out its long, slobbering mouth. It was pacing around him.

The sight of the beast hardened his heart, tightening his chest as he bore his teeth in fury at the thing. "What?" he spat at it, waving his sword and making it step back. "You want some of this? Come on!"

The sabertusk lunged forward as Noctis hurled his sword, the wind hissing as the blade struck the creature's shoulder. For a moment the world was seared with a magical blue and he felt himself propelled through the ether like a bullet, before he materialized with his fingers curled around the weapon's hilt. The momentum of his warp knocked the sabertusk off its feet and the two of them went rolling along the ground, thrashing in blind ferocity.

The beast writhed against his body, snapping its grotesque jaws at the air and lashing out with its massive claws; one dug into Noctis's side and he gasped at the stabbing pain. Roiling in anger, the young man raised his sword high and brought its engine down hard on the sabertusk's head, splitting its teeth with sharp cracks. Twisting his wrist he pointed the tip at the creature and howled, driving the sword into its body.

The beast screamed and thrashed in pain, and Noctis pulled the sword out, slick with the sabertusk's blood. "You can go to _hell!_ " he roared at it, stabbing it again and again. "You, your friends, the empire, my dad, this entire goddamn _world_ can go to hell!"

The sabertusk was silenced with one final, pitiful whine. Noctis rested his head against its body, bony and rough. Coughing, holding his bleeding side and crying with fresh tears, he watched the engine blade fade away into light. Looking into the sky, he could see his father again. "Why did you have to leave me …?" he choked.

His heart skipped a beat as he heard another growl, and the sound of several more sabertusks panting hungrily. He was surrounded. Slowly, he pulled himself up to his feet, summoning his weapon again. "Sh … shit …" he said, backing up in fear. He couldn't take them all. "I … I don't …"

"Noct!" All the sabertusks jolted at the bellow of Gladiolus's voice. "Get out of there!"

Noctis took the opportunity to dash at an opening in the pack; the sabertusks nearest him jumped in fright and ran away, and the prince was clear just as Gladiolus jumped into the fray. The towering young man cleaved one of the animals in two with a single crash of his greatsword against the ground, and more of the beasts ran for their lives.

Gunshots signalled the arrival of Prompto, who was picking off the stragglers. Noctis stumbled away, holding his side and throbbing with pain. He took a few more shaking steps before he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Noct, are you hurt?" It was Ignis. He circled around the prince and patted up and down Noctis's body, starting when Noctis hissed at contact with his wound. "You're bleeding. What in the world were you …?"

In the starlit darkness, Noctis saw Ignis's eyes look into his own, follow the tearstains on his cheeks, and widen ever so slightly in understanding. The prince grimaced and looked away.

Supporting him, Ignis began to guide him back to Gladiolus and Prompto, who had driven off or killed the remaining sabertusks. "Thanks …" Noctis muttered to him under his breath.

"I'll see about stitching you up when we return to Cid's," Ignis replied. "For now …"

The other two members of his retinue approached, Gladiolus positively storming in outrage. The larger man opened his mouth to speak, but was silenced with a motion of Ignis's hand and the grave look on his face. "There will be time for words later," Ignis said. He looked at Noctis sadly, sighing faintly. "He is wearing enough regret tonight." Gladiolus hesitated for a moment, but nodded in the end.

Supported by his friends, Noctis trudged weakly back towards Cid's house. Tilting his head, he looked again towards the sky, at the vista of stars and the moon overhead.

He felt like a child, small and alone in a hostile world. Small, alone, and drowning in grief.

But also, deep in his chest, lay a powerful hate that burned like a fire. He thought back to the weight of his sword in his hand, to the resistance of the sabertusk's flesh, to the exhilaration of burying the blade within it. He thought of the magitek soldiers seen in the city, marching with machine guns in their hands. He thought of the face of Emperor Iedolas Aldercapt, seen on television screens and newspaper photos for as long as he could remember.

Niflheim had taken everything from him. In that moment, walking back to Cid's home, Noctis knew he could never rest until the empire had been wiped off the map, and everything he had lost had been avenged.

He would make them all pay.


End file.
